


something in the look you give

by metonymy



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Edging, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, arthur is a secret romantic, surprisingly non-explicit smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metonymy/pseuds/metonymy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want you on your knees." Arthur and Ariadne have a great thing going, so long as he doesn't mess it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	something in the look you give

They keep it under wraps.

Or, at least, they try to. 

Arthur's sure that Eames knows something, and even their rotating cast of extractors has started to notice the marks that Ariadne's scarves and Arthur's high collars don't quite hide.

But that's not the whole of it.

It's not just that they're sleeping together. 

Fucking, more accurately. 

Having incredibly mindblowing sex every time they end up on a job, teasing and flirting and then sneaking into each other's hotel rooms late at night. 

Arthur ties her up, teasing her with featherlight touches and then slipping a vibrator into her panties and sitting in the armchair with the latest stack of research, glancing up every so often as she curses and sobs. Finally he joins her and kisses her, pushing the vibrator against her clit till she screams out her release. 

Ariadne strips him down and puts his tie back around his neck, ordering him to his knees, tugging on it tightly till his head jerks back, till he can't breathe against the pressure, his cock hardening even as his vision blurs. She finally frees his breath and the rush of oxygen is better than the high when he comes. 

His neck is sore the next day. 

It isn't like that every time. The first night they're together, in Los Angeles after the Fischer job, they don't do anything more than sleep in their clothes on top of the hotel bedspread. Some nights it's just a quick fuck to blow off some steam, and he's learned by now how to work her up by teasing her breasts and going down on her till she pulls on his hair and demands that he get inside her right now, and then it's only a few more minutes after that. 

And it's fine, it's great, he enjoys the more vanilla stuff just as much as he does when Ariadne ties him down and then gives him a blowjob that lasts a solid hour with all of the times she pulls off and moves away, till the tears are leaking out of his eyes. He likes falling asleep beside her and he likes the way she moans when she's strapped to the headboard and he's counting how many times he can make her come before she begs him to stop. 

And in the morning she slips back to her room, or he goes back to his, and the hotel staff doesn't care about where the bathrobes end up, and Ariadne will still challenge him on his ideas and he'll still point out the flaws in her designs, and if she rubs at a chafed wrist in between practice runs that doesn't seem to make a difference. He'll still remember her coffee order, and she'll still tease him with Eames to see how far they can go before Arthur snaps at them to grow up.

What Arthur's more concerned about is how he keeps thinking the most ridiculous things. How he wants to follow her back to Paris and stop living on the run. How he knows she's dissatisfied with the jobs but keeps itching for the chance to create something truly impossible. How he keeps biting his tongue to hold back three little words that would ruin this wonderful thing they have going.

He wants Ariadne to be a part of his life, not just a colleague with whom he is having fucking amazing sex. He wants to wake up next to her and argue about who forgot to buy coffee and get annoyed when she forgets to clean her hair out of the shower drain. He wants all kinds of stupid things he's never thought about before. He wants a life where he can see himself growing old and watch Ariadne changing every day beside him.

In the end, it's nothing so dramatic as a bullet wound or a job gone wrong. Things just sort of fall out of place. Eames gets made and decides to fuck back off to a warm beach, the jobs start to dry up, and Ariadne decides she's had quite enough excitement and would like to build something that will actually last. 

She doesn't even ask him to move to Paris outright, in the end. She's talking about her plans for when she gets home, and she's saying something about buying new sheets, and she asks what colors he likes. As if he's going to be sleeping on them. 

Ariadne is just as bad at talking about things as he is, he realizes belatedly. 

When he takes a moment too long to answer she nudges him with her elbow and rolls over to kiss him again, and he buries his traitorous voice in her mouth because he can't quite believe it was that easy.

The sheets they settle on are pale blue, and soft underneath his back on her bed. Her cuffs are black, tossed on the floor for another night. 

"I love you," he murmurs as she draws him down, the words tangled in her hair, mouthed into her skin.

Ariadne smiles and tells him that she loves him too.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a lyrics meme on Tumblr, request by my buddy Cee for "Dark in My Imagination" by Of Verona with the snippet "There’s something in the look you give. I can’t help myself I fall, I can’t help myself at all. There’s something in your touch when we kiss. I scream god forgive me please, because I want you on your knees." This sort of happened. Dedicated to xaedificare.


End file.
